


Enough

by i_know_its_0ver



Category: The Eagle (2011)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-24
Updated: 2011-04-24
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_know_its_0ver/pseuds/i_know_its_0ver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>post-movie: Marcus gets defensive when a fellow Roman insults Esca.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted anonymously as a prompt fill on the lj Eagle kink meme. de-anoning here.

Marcus thought their days after recovering with the Eagle would once again be peaceful. Not that he longed to return to his days of enforced indolence, but if he could no longer be a soldier then he longed to at least create a quiet life for himself, away from prying eyes and gossiping tongues. Hopefully with Esca at his side, though that was for him to decide.

But it was not to be. As soon as word of their great adventure had spread every politician and patrician in Britain was eager to meet them. Some just wanted to hear the story of their exploits, like their lives were a stage drama for their amusement and titillation. Others hoped to gain political advantage by winning their favor. Some had more obvious designs for the hero of the Ninth, thrusting daughters and sisters into his lap at every opportunity.

Marcus bore it with frustrated patience, Esca with much less. At every feast he would sit silently, only nibbling on whatever extraordinary delicacies were offered. He did not speak unless necessary, preferring only to address Marcus. The few times he deigned to talk to others it usually came out disdainful and proud, and so Marcus decided his silence was for the best. At least Esca, being a free man with no obligation, had chosen to accompany Marcus on these occasions, and that was all he could reasonably ask.

Sometimes there were jokes and snide comments about the “barbarians” of the north and the uncivilized manners of the British tribes. Esca’s jaw would tighten and his fists would clench, and Marcus knew he was holding back a fervent tirade against Rome’s hypocrisy. But he always kept quiet, reining in his pride for Marcus’s sake. Marcus knew how much it hurt him; it was the same boiling anger he felt whenever anyone impugned the honor of the Ninth or his father. It must be costly him dearly to stay silent.

But Marcus let it pass as well most of the time, deflecting their comments with good humor, neither indulging nor correcting them. It would be too difficult to explain to these closed minded snobs the inherent honor and dignity of the British warriors. They may be Rome’s enemies, but they were worthy enemies, deserving of respect.

Tonight’s banquet seemed to be turning in that direction now.

“Tell me of the Britons,” one man sitting close by asked Marcus. He had been staring at Esca all evening, more openly as he became more and more drunk, and it seemed the wine had finally loosened his tongue, and his courage. “Are they really half-animal, as the reports say?” He was young, but overly plump with years of indulgence and dissipation, and Marcus doubted he had ever held a sword in his life, the useless coward.

“No,” Marcus replied, trying to stay neutral despite his growing annoyance, “they are men, as you or I, and brave men, at that. Braver than some Romans,” he said with a pointed look.

The man either did not understand his meaning or chose to ignore the insult. Esca sat still beside Marcus, sipping a goblet of water and pretending not to listen, but his fingers were tensed around his cup, as if he wished to hurl it at the man. Marcus had half a mind to do it for him.

“Well, it seems you have managed to tame one of them,” the man continued as if Marcus had not spoken, eyes raking over Esca with a look that was half disdain but half lustful curiosity. “How did you train your dog to behave so well?”

Before he could think twice Marcus was on his feet, grabbing the stupid man by the front of his tunic, leaning down to growl in his face.

“Esca is no dog,” he snarled. “He is a better man than you will ever be, you pompous fool.”

The man’s face had gone slack with terror, which made Marcus smile inwardly. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted to bash his face in, to teach him what true barbarism was, if he wanted to know so badly.

“Marcus.” Esca’s voice pulled him out of his trance, low but cutting. Marcus looked around and realized most of the room had stopped to watch him with horror.

Marcus hardly cared for their opinion, but Esca repeated his name again, with the barest hint of a plea, and Marcus released the man reluctantly. He sank back down into his seat clumsily, face ashen, his liquid courage deserting him. Marcus couldn’t help but sneer.

As the rest of the room continued to look on in shocked silence Marcus grabbed Esca’s elbow and pulled him up, leading the way out of the room. They didn’t speak a word as they made their way out of the house and onto the quiet streets of Calleva.

Marcus’s stride was as quick as he could manage, trying to work out some of his frustration, though it wasn’t enough. He wanted to hit something, to yell and scream. How could they talk of Esca so, after all he had done for Marcus, for Rome? He didn’t expect them to suddenly understand all of the Britons, but couldn’t they see Esca for what he was when he was sitting right in front of them? It was infuriating and insulting and heartbreaking. And even more so because Esca let it pass.

“Marcus,” Esca called again sharply as they entered the garden of Aquila’s villa. His voice cut through the still night air like a knife and brought Marcus back to his senses.

Marcus turned to face him, expecting a sharp reprimand for his stupidity; Esca would likely not appreciate Marcus taking it upon himself to defend his honor. But instead Esca was smirking at him, that small upturning of lips that Marcus was still learning how to read, it was still so new.

“Why did you do that?” Esca asked, his tone equal parts amusement and annoyance. Marcus grimaced. He thought at least that much would be obvious.

“How could I let them talk of you like that, after all you’ve done? They’re wrong, but they’re too blind to see past their ignorance!” Marcus wanted to scream his frustration, but he kept his voice low so as not to wake the household. He did not need an audience for his frustration.

“You were once not so different yourself,” Esca pointed out, smirking again. It made Marcus flinch. It was true, at one point he would have thought much the same about most of the British tribes, but he had never thought that way about Esca, not once.

“You know I never—“

“I know,” Esca cut him off, expression serious now as he looked Marcus in the eye. Esca was always hard to read, his emotions kept deep below the surface, but now Marcus thought he could detect a softness in his expression. “I once thought you just another ignorant Roman,” he continued, soft smile returning, “but you have always been good to me, and I have chosen to stay with you of my own will. That should tell you enough.”

Marcus was stunned. He knew his and Esca’s bond was strong, but it was not something they had ever spoke of. “But the others,” he protested, trying to come back to the issue at hand, “they say—“

“I know what they say, and it pains me, but it does not matter,” Esca interjected. “What do I care for the opinion of ill-bred Romans? You know me, that is enough.” Marcus believed his sincerity, but he still could not believe his words. How could that be enough, when no one would recognize his accomplishments, his dedication? To be constantly impugned, despite his efforts, Marcus would find it maddening.

Esca seemed to read him, as he so often did. “I don’t deny that I might find great pleasure in correcting them, but it is not worth it, Marcus. You have to let it go.”

Marcus watched Esca in the pale moonlight, tall and proud, and wondered if he could ever have his strength to face the world so unashamed.

“I will not sit by and listen to them insult you” Marcus said, though it was half hearted now, most of his fight drained by Esca’s calm words.

“Then don’t,” Esca replied simply, with a small shrug of his shoulder. Marcus’s brow furrowed, examining him closely. Esca stepped closer, only inches away, head tilted up to meet Marcus’s gaze.

“You have done your service to Rome, and I my service to you. Perhaps it is time we served ourselves?” his gaze was unwavering but he was smiling again.

“What do you mean?” Marcus asked, feeling a cavern of despair in his chest. If Esca wanted to part ways now he could not stop him, though he wanted to hold him back with all his strength.

“Have you ever thought about farming?” Esca asked, and Marcus could only nod dumbly. It had been his dream to own land someday, though he had imagined it would be after a long military career.

“Good. Then it is settled,” Esca said, and before Marcus could ask exactly what was settled, Esca was leaning up to place warm lips on his own. Marcus felt all his questions melt away under that caress, pulling Esca closer into his arms. Esca’s hands came up to tangle in his hair, deepening the kiss with sudden urgency. It was a bit rough, but so very Esca.

When they finally pulled apart Marcus smiled down at him. “Together?” he asked, now sure of the answer, and Esca nodded. He pulled Esca to him again, chest humming with contentment.

They would build their life together, on their own terms, the opinions of the rest of the world be damned. It would be enough.


End file.
